Alright, so i should probably introduce myself. I'm Brianna and I am 13 years old. I love to wrrite and sing. Phantom of the opera is an obsession of mine because I can relate to Erik, the Phantom, in so many ways. I have a heart problem and that makes me different. I am not popular so I spend most of my free time writing. If anyone has the app 'kik messenger', my username is bjrcarebear. So yeah, that's me. Maybe from now on, in each chapter i will give one fact about me! Also, I enjoy reading people's reviews and I try to respond to them all. Critic my work please and tell me how i can improve! Alright, have a nice day!
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"Erik." I mumbled, just waking up. I looked up and saw Erik standing up and rowing the boat. I was lying in it since I was still sleeping.
"Yes Jemma?" He asked me.
"Are you all right?" I was putting his feelings ahead of mine because I knew he must be heart broken.
"What do you mean?" He asked. His voice cracked and I knew he don't want to answer that question, but I pushed on for an answer.
"What happened up there. Are you all right?"
"Yes." Was all he said.
"Are you sure because from what I saw-" I was cut off by an angry Erik, or was he sad. Probably both.
"Because what?" He yelled, turning around so that he could see me. He had stopped rowing just to yell at me. "You know nothing! You are just a dancing rat who knows nothing! I love her and she chose that... that fop!" He shouted.
I didn't even flinch. Instead, I let a single tear drip down my pale cheek. Erik turned around and continued rowing. When the boat hit land, Erik got out and walked over to a stack of music papers. I crooked my head to the side. Poor thing. I did understand what he was going through. Just he doesn't know that.
I pulled the cape up so that I didn't trip on it and then got out. I reached to my neck and untied the little strings. "Here." I quietly say, holding the black cape out to him.
"Keep it." He said. He turned back around and I just nodded my head even though he couldn't see.
I walked to the swan bed and got into it. I pulled the black cape over my body and shut my eyes. Pulling the cape up to my chin, I let out silent tears and let them fall onto the pillow.
I felt so bad for Erik. He was unable to open his eyes and see that Christine didn't love him! That thought led me to another. Why did my parents leave me? I knew that it wasn't there fault, but more mine!
Tears spilled out of my eyes and I silently cried myself to sleep.
(Erik's P.O.V.)
I cupped my hands and threw my head into them. "I can't do this!" I shouted. I crumpled a piece of paper with music notes on it and I threw it to the ground. Then I remembered that Jemma was in the other room. I shut my big mouth and took in a deep breath.
"Oh Christine, why don't you love me?" I whispered to the universe. When all was quiet, I shut my eyes. I was about to drift off to sleep, but my eyes quickly shot open.
All was not hushed anymore. What was that sorrow filled sound? I listened a few seconds longer, not even breathing so that I could hear the sound weakly breaking through the air. A whimper. A whimper?
Well it wasn't me. Doest that mean? No. I couldn't have. I had made Jemma cry.
I stood up and walked into her room. I was carefully stepping lightly on the ground so that she didn't hear me. I stood at the door at and stared at her.
She had stopped crying and I was hopping that she was asleep. I walked up to her and stood at the side of the bed. She looked so peaceful at that moment.
I stared at her face and saw one single tear drip. "I'm sorry." I said. With a gloved hand, I slowly wiped away the tear drop. She started to move around so I walked back out to my organ.
I took a seat and looked around, wishing that I could be sitting here knowing that Christine was in that bed. Instead though, it was Jemma.
'Is that such a bad thing?' A voice in the back of my head asked.
"She is no Christine. She is just a dancing little girl." I thought out loud.
Christine was special. She was MY Angle of Music. I just know that if that foul Raoul hadn't stepped into the picture, Christine would be back in that bed.
'But you have Jemma!' my mind screamed at me.
I ignored my thoughts and rested my head on the now covered organ. I thought that I might as well get some sleep so that hopefully the aching pain would descend into the night.
########A few hours later#######
I picked my head up, glad that another lonely day had passed.
'You still have Jemma.' the voice inside of my head stated.
I sat up straight and adjusted my wig and mask to perfection. I stretched my back and stood up. I looked around just let the sadness of everything sink in.
Christine doesn't love me. "But I will get her!" I angrily think out loud.
Just as I am about to let my anger get the best of me, I hear a noise coming from Jemma. It wasn't a cry thankfully. It was more like…like a cough.
She coughed again and then once more. Her cough was loud and vigorous. I let out a slight sigh, forgetting my worries just for the moment. I walked away from where I was standing and went to go see if Jemma was all right.
I miserably walked into the room to see Jemma but I didn't see her. Instead I saw a small, pale ghost like figure wrapped up in my cape.
"Jemma?" I asked in a low voice.
"Oh Erik. I was just coming to see you." She said. Her voice sounded horse and soar. She sat up and pulled the cape close to her.
"Jemma, you should probably lay back down." I told her. I walked over to her side and just stood there like an idiot. I didn't know what to say!
"I'm fine. Really. It's just a little cough." She said with a fake laugh. She stood up and just looked up at me. "See? I'm fine." She said.
I saw her knees go weak and just as she fell, I caught her in my arms. She was so helpless.
'She needs you' my mind whispered.'
When she looked up into my eyes with a slight smile, I felt a small smile tug at the edges of my lips but I didn't let the fuzzy warm feeling inside of me overtake my body. "You are not fine." I calmly said. I picked her weak body up and put her back into the bed.
"Go back to sleep." I covered her up with the blankets and then my black cape.
"But-" I cut her off. "No 'buts'. Just go back to sleep. She rolled away to face the other side of the wall.
"Fine." she huffed. She let her body relax and I knew that that was my sign to leave her to rest. I walked back out to my organ and looked around. I really hated living this life.
It really stinks being down her, closed off from the outside world. I can't even go into the Opera House without getting greeted with screams. My own Opera House!
I let out a puff of air that I had been holding and walked away from this pitiful instrument which only reminds me of Christine and the time I spent on her. For hours I would sit at my organ and write songs…all for her! And for what? To find out that she doesn't love me?
With one swipe of my arm, I had knocked over one of my candles in anger.
'Don't wake Jemma.' my mind shouted.
I left the candle on the ground and ran down to the boat. I climbed in and rowed away once the gate opened. I just needed to get away. At least for a little while.
Where I was heading was a complete mystery to even myself. The boat floated across the lake, a million thoughts beating up my mind at once.
When the boat stopped, I stepped out and walked down a tunnel. There I found myself staring into the dancer's bed room. Girls were running around like crazy. They were all speaking lies. Rumors they had heard from each other.
"I heard that the Opera Ghost KILLED Jemma!" A girl with long blonde hair said.
"I heard that Jemma ran off to some other country to be with him." A girl with long black hair said. If I am right, she is one of Jemma's closest friends. Isabella I think her name is. I think people call her Isa though.
"If that is true, then they would make a VERY happy and cute couple." An intoxicating voice said.
I looked around the room and behind a few girl in tutus sat my beautiful Christine, combing through her hair with a smile of her face. She was just sitting on her bed. She seemed as if her mind were miles away.
Young Meg Giry sat down next to her. "Are you crazy Christine? He would kill her before she could even scream." She said with a laugh at Christine's innocence.
"You don't know that Meg. Behind his mask could be a sweet and gentle…man." Christine said with a gulp. She had seen that side of me. She did know that part of me.
"Stop lying to yourself. Besides, he loves you. It's no secret. He want you in each and every play and does anything to make that happen."
It was true, I would do anything to make my angle a star.
"I just hope he doesn't harm Jemma. Or do anything to make her shed even a single tear." She said this knowing that I had made her cry before.
Christine stood up and put her brush away. Then she walked out of the room. I still stood there though. I was being sucked into the gossip.
Isa stood up in the middle of the room and spun around to look at each dancer for a split second. "You know what I heard from the guys?" She asked with a devilish grin on her face.
"What?" they all shouted, moving in closer. The guys of my Opera House always spread the most craziest lies. Crazier than the girl's.
"I heard that The Phantom came to her one night after a show. He took her with him and brought her to his secret lair where he forced her to bed him!" She shouted.
Each and every girl in the room burst out in laughter.
"I heard that he bed her more than once! And she loved it!" another girl chirped. The room was enclosed in laughter.
"I heard that after he bed her, he told her that she was a whore and that he never wanted to see her ugly face again!" one other girl said. Each and every girl erupted in laughter. Even her own 2 friends Meg and Isa!
I was hurt that people would think that I would do that to Jemma! Why would I force her to bed me and then call her such hurtful words?
Anger bubbled up inside of me. I mean, even if I were to bed her, I would never do it by force. I would want her to love me and- NO! Why am I even thinking of bedding Jemma? I love Christine. I am just letting all of this gossip get to my head.
'You like Jemma.' My mind told me.
I love Christine not that… that… that ballet rat! I harshly spun around and ran off. I sat in the boat but instead of rowing, I just sat in it and let it slowly flow downstream.
Was it true? Did I like Jemma a little bit? I mean, she is different from Christine. From any other girl in fact. Even Madame Giry feared me somewhat.
Jemma doesn't fear me unless I give her reason to. But I don't like her! No! I like Christine! I love Christine!
She is my angle of music, my prodigy. But in her eyes she still held fear. I knew it. Her heart was weighed down by fear of my disgusting face! She loves Raoul! He is… perfect!
Everything I am not, he is. But what does Jemma see in me though? I mean, I am no better than her friends who were laughing at the thought of her behind her back!
"Friends."
Jemma's voice echoed through my head. We're friends. At least she is mine. I never gave her a solid answer. Instead I just yelled at her.
And for what, caring about me? Not even my own mother cared about me. Jemma saw my face and I yelled at her. Then she forgave me.
The boat drifted to my home as I sat in deep thought. When I reached land, I walked over to my organ and looked at a small pocket watch Madame Giry had given me many years ago. I hadn't even realized how long I was away until I looked at the small clock. Almost 2 hours.
I leaned my head back and stared at the walls. These walls which keep me closed off from the world. The walls which divide me and Christine.
I lowered my head to look at my sheet music, my opera I was working on. I might have been done by now, if I knew what to write next for my song. And even when I do figure out the next few lines, I must write the rest of the play.
I keep in mind though that this will help me physically be closer to Christine.
I Started to play a few random notes in hopes that the lyrics and tune would just come to me, but I had no luck. I let out a sigh of exhaustion. I shut my eyes for a few seconds in hopes of concentration. Instead of concentrating though, I am stuck thinking.
Surprisingly I wasn't thinking of Christine. I was thinking of Jemma and what she would think if she knew what her 'friends' were saying about her. Making up rumors and lies about her…and then laughing about them!
As if my thoughts were spoken out loud, when I opened my eyes I a saw a petite figure standing to the side of me. I turned my head to look at Jemma.
"You shouldn't be out of bed." I said to her.
She let out a small cough. It didn't sound as bad is it did earlier though. "I heard you playing and decided to come see what you were working on." She said. "May I sit monsieur?"
I scooted over a bit as if signaling a 'yes'. She still held my cape close to her body. She pulled it aside and sat down. She reached up and grabbed my papers. I harshly grabbed her wrist. I didn't want her to see my work.
"Relax." she said with a halfhearted smile. "I just want to see them." I slowly unclasped my fingers from her wrist and watched as she looked over the song I had been working on.
At the last paper, she looked up at me. "I see you are at a dead end are you not?" I nodded my head. She shut her eyes and then opened them. "May I please have a pen?" She asked me.
"You are not going to change my opera are you?" I asked. After all, it is MY opera.
"Fine. I will sing it and you can write it." She said, handing the paper to my gloved hand. I lightly took them as I watched her rest her hands on the organ.
"Ok, let's see." She said. She played a few notes. "No no." Jemma mumbled to her self.
"Ok. This is just off of the top of my head," she told me, still staring at the organ.
Out of the blue, beautiful notes began to come out of my organ. They were amazingly beautiful! When she stopped, she looked at me.
"Are you getting this?" She asked me. I fumbled for my pen.
"Ah yes." I said. I was dumbfounded at how well the notes fit with the rest of the song. I wrote down each note that Jemma just played.
"Now for lyrics." her sick voice chirped. I looked over at her. Even after just waking up, her brown hair looked pretty. What was I saying? Christine is pretty. Jemma is just…beautiful.
I would have gotten into a full out fight with myself if not for Jemma's voice.
"When will the blood begin to race? The sleeping bud burst into bloom? When will the flames at last consume us?"
I wrote down each word she sang, all the while thinking of how perfect her voice was.
'Way better than Christine's.' my mind said.
Yes it was. No wait! Christine's is the best voice ever!
"What do you think?" Jemma asks me.
Without words I just sat there, probably looking really stupid. I didn't know what to say. Jemma had a beautiful voice. It was so beautiful that not even the sweetest candy could compare to it. But still nothing compared to Christine's voice.
"I-it was great." I finally said. I looked up from the paper and saw that Jemma had a smile on her face.
"Thanks." she said. I saw a small blush start to lightly paint her cheeks. It made her look perfect in the candle light. Her brown hair rested on one of her shoulders. It was just right.
No! Why am I thinking all of this? Christine is perfect, my angle of music, my everything. Jemma is just a girl with a good voice.
I mentally shook all of my thoughts out of my head when Jemma spoke up again. "Do you have anything to drink Erik? I do not mean to be a bother, it is just that my throat is very dry."
"Oh um, let me go see." I said. I stood up from my seat and walked to one of my curtains. The one which was next to my model of Christine. It wore a wedding dress which I planed on giving to Christine one of these days.
I opened the curtain to a small kitchen like area. I reached up and opened a cabinet. In it were bottles of wine and whiskey and other types of alcohol. Damn! Nothing else?
I carefully got a wine and two cups. I guess this will have to do. I pulled the curtain out of my way and walked back towards Jemma, trying not to look at my mannequin of Christine.
I stood behind the seat of which Jemma was sitting on. "Is this alright? It is all I have." Jemma spun around and looked at me. I waved the two glasses and the wine in the air. She nodded her head. I sat down next to her and popped open the bottle and poured some into each cup in hand. I set the bottle next to me on the ground and handed Jemma a cup of white wine.
"Thank you." she said. She tipped the cup back and took a small sip. I did the same.
When she brought the cup down I looked over at her. She had a small trace of wine lining her top lip. I was guessing that she didn't know that it was there because I just kept staring at her.
"What?" she asked me. She was right, her throat was dry. Now when she talked she sounded better.
I felt a smile creep onto my face as I just continued to stare at her.
"What?" she asked once again. She sounded a little angry but in one of those funny ways.
I brought my gloved finger up to her face and I wiped away the wine on her lip. She just sat there completely frozen. Did she feel what I felt? Even though a leather glove was covering my hand, sparks flew all up my arm. Sparks I didn't have when I touched Christine.
I let my finger rest on her face for a second longer than needed. When I pulled my arm back, I looked from her pink lips up to her sparkling eyes. "You had some wine on your lip." I said.
I still could barely speak, let alone breath. I felt sparks when I touched this girl. And she let me touch her. She didn't flinch or move away at all. Christine let me touch her to, but in all fairness she was in a trance.
"Thanks." She said in a small voice. Her eyes were still locked with mine. I wasn't sure if I should do something or look away or walk away. Instead I let a smile still latch onto my face. It wasn't a big smile, but it was there. Jemma had a smile too.
What should I do? I wanted to do something but I didn't.
'Maybe you should…KISS HER!' a voice in the back of my mind shouted.
Should I? Should I really kiss her? No. It just wouldn't be right. Betraying my love for Christine and wasting it on a child? Thoughts swarmed my head and before I could think any more, Jemma spoke up.
"I um…I should probably get back to sleep." She said. Her voice sounded sad.
Did she want me to kiss her? No, I'm just over thinking things.
"Yes you should." I told her. I felt my smile drop as she stood up.
"Thank you for the drink Erik."
"Your welcome."
Jemma walked off, cape around her shoulders. Once she was in the room, I stood up. I walked over to the curtain with Christine's wedding dress and went in. Without looking at the model, I opened a big closet. It was full of clothes that I had for Christine. It had many different outfits that I wanted her to wear one day.
I looked through all of the dresses and decided to take out a light blue dress which fell at one's knees. Around the waist line it had a black ribbon tied around it.
I shut the closet doors and opened a few small drawers. I pulled out a pair of black slippers for shoes, black hand gloves and a black hair ribbon along with a wooden brush.
I shut those drawers and opened one more. I pulled out a pair of… unmentionables and then shut the drawer. I walked out of that small room, never once making eye contact with the still glass eyes in the mannequin.
I quietly walked into Jemma's room and set the clothes down on a small chair in the corner of the room. Without even looking at her, I walked out. I still needed to finish my play.
I sat down at my organ and looked down at my wine. Might as well have a drink. I lifted up the light alcohol and sipped at it slowly as I scribbled words onto paper.
After I had a few scenes written down, I decided to play the song that Jemma had written a little bit too. I flipped to that song and softly hummed the tune to my self. I honestly really loved this song.
I played each note, careful not to skip one or get one wrong. When I got to the part that Jemma added in I paused. I glanced up at the notes and then began to play while singing them. "When will the blood begin to race? The sleeping bud burst into bloom? When will the flames at last consume us?"
The song really spoke to me. Even the ending. It just…fit in somehow. To be honest, I have seen Jemma dance before. She is amazing at it! But here, here she has a gift. She can write opera, sing opera, AND play the organ. She has never had any lessons for any of them.
I continued to just sit and drink my wine in deep thought. Why is she still here? Why is she not leaving me when she is clearly able to? I know that she is sick, but on the roof top, she called me her friend.
Madame Giry has been my friend since I came here, but she was still scared of me.
What on Earth am I thinking? Jemma is still disgusted by my face. She is just crazy enough to keep coming down here!
With her here, she is blocking Christine from entering my thoughts. Christine…my one true love.
I would give anything for her. I would kill 1,000 men for her. If she told me to kill Raoul, I wouldn't hesitate. If I had to kill her little friend Meg to get to her, I would.
'And Jemma?' my cursed conscience asked.
No. I would never hurt her. Friends don't hurt each other. I will never hurt my friend.
The word friend brought a smile to my face knowing that I had one. I had a friend.
I stood up and walked over to where I kept all of my sketches and sat down on the wooden chair. I looked around and found a sheet of paper and some colored ink for my quill pen.
Without hesitation I started to draw a picture of a girl with brown hair. It was just her face, but it was still a beautiful picture.
My hand continued to move around, dipping my quills and then drawing.
When I was done, I looked down at my paper. I was a little shocked.
It was a picture of Jemma!
My shock was replaced with the slightest smile. She was indeed a beautiful girl.
Looking at this picture made me realize something. I knew nothing about her! She knows nothing about me either and yet she has been nothing but kind to me!
I decided to go check on Jemma. I got up and walked into her room.
Her face was buried deep in the pillows and she was still covered up with my cape. The color had come back to her face some so it looked as if she were feeling a little bitter.
I just stood and stared at her for a second when I heard her mumble.
She spoke jumbled words, but I could make out one thing she said "I'm sorry."
I walked away in confusion. Why? Why would she be sorry?
Thoughts swarmed me head. Was she a killer to? Did she have secrets to hide as well? Was she just having a bad dream?
I didn't know. I sat down at my organ again and began to play the song Jemma had helped write once again.
Then something popped into my head about half way through the song.
What was I thinking? I'm the Phantom of the Opera for damn's sake! Why do I care what a little dancer is dreaming about? She is not Christine nor could she ever compete with her!
Just a dancing rat! Yeah, that is all she is! I am just trying to be nice for once. She is not my friend. If she was then she wouldn't have pulled my mask off!
She just wants something from me! Or she just wants to torment me like the others! She is just a… "A DANCING RAT!"
I slammed my fist down on the organ bench and then snapped out of my little self conflict. I shut my eyes and looked down at the ground.
"I am just a dancing rat aren't I?"
I turned around and I saw a teary eyed Jemma. Had I said some of that out loud?
"I thought we were friends." she said through tears.
"We… I…" I was at a loss of words.
"Just forget it. Remember, I'm just a dancing rat." She dropped my cape which was wrapped around her and I saw that she was wearing the outfit I gave her.
Everything looked so perfect on her...but it would look better on Christine. I just realized that she also had her long hair tied up in the ribbon.
"Jemma." I reached a hand out to her even though she had walked past me and I now stared at her back.
"What Erik?" She asked sounding a bit irritated. Her eyes were full of tears now.
"I didn't mean it." That was all I could say. I probably sounded so pathetic.
"You never mean it do you!?" She now shouted. "You think that just because you say sorry everything will be alright! Well sorry means nothing now! No wonder Christine doesn't want to be with you! Who would want to be with a man like you? You are hideous, on the inside! Some people could look past your looks but you just decide to wallow in your own pain and sorrow! What woman would want to be with a man who is such a baby that he can't even go outside and live with others? No one would want to live down here! People want to live!" She moved closer towards me and poked me in the chest.
As she ranted on I could just feel the fire burning up inside of me but I tried to contain it.
"You see Erik, girls don't want a man who hides all of his worries behind a mask. They want someone who can protect them! Not a coward like you! To scared to even show your own face to me!"
That was it! I couldn't hold in my rage!
With one swift movement, I stood up and pushed her to the ground.
"You little whore!" I shouted at her. "You should have died with your parents!"
I then realized that I had gone a bit to far.
I hovered over the scared girl, anger dripping like venom from my lips. Tears were streaming down her face. Oh gosh, I made Jemma cry! What do I care though? She is just a girl!
"Get out of here!" I shouted with all of my might.
She stood up and got in the boat. I pulled the lever to open the gate for her to leave and I watched after her until she was out of my sight.
I then took a seat and drank what was left of the white wine. As I drank away my troubles and thoughts bounced around in my head.
Did I do the right thing? Was it best for her to leave? Will I now be able to think of Christine freely?
Other thoughts jumped around as well. More important thoughts. Like the fact that I just called Jemma a whore. Was that needed? She was just speaking her mind and the truth at that. She would probably get over that.
But I also just told her to die. Wait, I just told a girl to die with her parents! Jemma is the type of girl who would do what ever it took to be with her parents.
Even…die! Oh no! what have I done!